


Days of Our Lives

by Its_Bee_Winchester



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: I don't know, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, No Plot, SO MUCH FLUFF, just fluff, literally just fluff, possible gentle smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-01-21
Packaged: 2018-03-08 11:50:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3208118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Its_Bee_Winchester/pseuds/Its_Bee_Winchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>fluffy domestic cecilos with no plot because there totally isnt enough of that and I'm bad at plot. So here, have some boring day-to-day life of (may I assume) your favourite fluffy dorks. I'll link all of Carlos' science shirts that actually exist in the notes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Days of Our Lives

Carlos was dreaming about science. In his dream he was already at the lab, pouring something vibrantly purple into something else vibrantly green and noting the equally vibrant orange they made together in his notebook. Just as they did in reality, the other scientists were quietly making fun of his old-fashioned (and, here anyways, illegal) habit of using a pen and paper instead of a laptop, but Carlos ignored them. He enjoyed the soft _scritch-scritch _feel of lead on paper, and since he hadn't been sent in for re-education yet, he assumed the secret police had more interesting people to spy on, anyways.__

__Carlos was jerked out of his ordinary dream by the insistent shriek of the alarm clock, and a cold (Cecil's extremities were always cold in the morning) hand under his shirt, followed by a low groan from its owner._ _

__"Carlooooos," Cecil's voice was gravelly and cracked like a middle schooler's halfway through the word. "Turn it off!" The words were muffled but insistent as the still very cold hand patted his chest. Carlos pushed Cecil's arm off of him, disentangling himself and groping for the offensive little machine on his bedside table. Cecil yawned hugely, nuzzling Carlos' newly abandoned pillow as he adjusted to the empty space where his boyfriend had been._ _

__It felt like the second time that day that Carlos stumbled out of bed, collected a decently clean t-shirt ("I zinc, therefore I am," it stated, with the periodic symbol for zinc instead of the word) and fresh scrubs, abandoning his pajama shirt and boxers at the hamper in the corner of the bedroom as he braced himself for the first ten, icy seconds in the shower. He dozed in the warm water until he heard evidence of Cecil's awakening - a sharp clatter as he knocked his glasses off the table, a gentle moan as he stretched his arms above his head, his tattoos curling around them like so many lazy cats. Carlos almost got lost in the daydream, imagining the other man's thin body stretched in the milky morning light, but he shook his head and forced himself to move on, getting out of the shower and wrapping his nearly shoulder-length hair in a towel before migrating towards the kitchen, pressing a quick kiss on Cecil's temple as he passed him in the doorway._ _

__Over the months they'd shared an apartment, the two men had gotten their morning ritual down to a practiced ease, moving like a sleepy but well oiled machine on their individual orbits around their shared home. Cecil slept longer but woke up quicker - or worked better groggy, Carlos could never quite tell - collecting both their belongings for work while Carlos made breakfast, and both of them took any excuse to touch each other when they passed before breakfast. It wasn't sexual, usually, if they let themselves think that way they'd never get to their jobs on time, both Cecil and Carlos simply enjoyed these constant reminders of the other's presence. After so many months of being literal universes apart, such simple pleasures as a gentle hand on Cecil's waist or a soft kiss pressed fleetingly on Carlos' unshaven cheek were a much-needed reminder that they were, in fact, together again._ _

__Breakfast was usually quiet, with coffee - black for Cecil, and heavily diluted with cream and sugar for Carlos - and eggs, scrambled with half a dozen different spices, as Carlos' mother had taught him. Indeed, Cecil had been shocked on moving day when Carlos had revealed his extensive spice collection, as he himself only had a meager amount of regular salt and pepper, preferring to live on Chinese takeout, cereal, and Big Rico's Pizza over home cooking. Even lazy Cecil had gotten a taste for it after a week or two of coming home to hot, fresh meals, but he was still childishly resistant when it came to vegetables. He shied away from anything green like a normal night valian come face to face with a librarian, and Carlos was even pretty sure he'd seen him hiss at a head of broccoli once. Now, however, Cecil dug into his perfectly seasoned eggs with gusto, sighing contentedly between bites. Carlos enjoyed watching him, amused by the rather dramatic facial expressions he made at the newspaper he was reading, and rather flattered by his obvious appreciation for the food. As he had mostly lived alone before this, Carlos was unused to sharing his cooking adventures with anyone, so the idea that what he made was actually good was still rather new and exciting._ _

__Cecil put his empty cup down with a clatter, startling Carlos out of his thoughts, and stood up._ _

__"Leaving already?" Carlos cocked an eyebrow, eyeing the clock even though he knew it was probably wrong._ _

__"You know management will have my ass on a platter if I don't show up on time, Carlos," Cecil sighed. "I suppose I could call in sick if you really wanted me to, though..." He looked hopefully at Carlos, his three violet eyes widening like a pleading child._ _

__"No, no, I have important work to do too, Ceec," Carlos shook his head, resisting the urge to comply. The last time Cecil had lied about being sick, station management had replaced his desk with a desk-sized bowl of gone-off soup for a week. As appetizing as a day spent in bed with Cecil sounded, he didn't want to put his job in jeopardy. "No whining, Corazón. We both have things to do."_ _

__Cecil pouted, but moved to kiss Carlos goodbye, lingering a fraction of a second to run a hand through his damp hair. As he disappeared out the front door, Carlos stood as well, moving the plates to the small dishwasher and reaching for his briefcase and favourite lab coat and preparing to leave, humming quietly._ _


End file.
